For You I Will
by Kei-Kei
Summary: Aya loves Ken, but can't bring himself to show his feelings. Yohji still loves Ken, but can't face himself for what he did. Ken just wants to love Aya, and have his feelings returned. What happens when you're against all odds? Angst, YxC,YxK,KxA, CH.7 UP!
1. Though you are there

  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss, as much as I wish I did... Koyasu, can't I have even one of them for Christmas? Pwease?!  
  
Summary: I'm not going to tell you the POV it's from, you should be able to figure it out. Besides, you'll find out at the end. There will also be a second chapter to this, only to be the opposite POV of the one that's being thought of throughout this. Please everyone, review and tell me how I did on this. I wrote it in my head last night, but I couldn't remember all the words exactly when I tried to remember it, so I'm not sure if it's as good. I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Dedications: This fanfic is dedicated to my lovely KenKen... I love you koi. ^----^  
  
  
  
  
His tangy, bitter taste fills my mouth and I cringe. His blonde strands brush across his cheeks as his head tilts back, a hoarse moan and choked cry escaping from his lips. I lick up the last drops of him and lean back, only to catch him as his knees give out and I find him in my arms. I cringe once more as his pink lips brush across mine, his tongue slipping past. His lips against my ear whispered to me his declaration of love, like he did every night, and I could only sit there and pretend I loved him. His course hands wraps around me, bringing me close to his body, his warmth. Closing my eyes, I sighed. I didn't love him. I didn't ever love him. Every night, instead of his blonde hair and deep moans, I imagined crimson lips and sweet mutterings of I love you.' Could I never tell him I didn't love him? Could I ever set him over the edge? No. We were assassins. Any disruption of his emotional state could risk his life. My life. Bombay's life. _His _life. Eventually, his breathing became slow and even, and I sighed once more. I traced a heart upon his shoulder blade, and the image arose once more in my mind. The image of pale skin, crimson lips, sleek, slender hands caressing me. Oh, how I wanted him... but oh, how I could never have him.   
  
Working in the flower shop, I always managed to place a work time with him. I watched his pale hands arrange the roses, his fingertips missing the thorns every time. My eyes traveled up his slim frame, lingering on his backside as he turned and yelled at the girls lingering around as they did every day. My fingers twitched at the yearning inside of me to touch him, to touch that sweet skin. My reverie was soon in shattered shards upon the floor as a large hand found itself around my waist, pulling me against a tall, lithe body. I moaned in despair, only to have it interpreted as a moan of longing by the man that held me. Whispering in my ear, he pulled me away from the flowers. I argued about leaving him alone, only to be stopped by Bombay bouncing in and taking my place. My eyes lingered to the one I truly wanted to be leaving with. Pulling me through the back door, he cornered me in the kitchen the four of us shared and pushed me fiercely against the refrigerator, kissing me harshly. His hand found itself up my shirt, fingertips brushing roughly over my nipples. I gasped into his mouth and longed to be free of him.   
  
Sighing inward, I slipped into my fantasy I had created for such occasions as this. Instead of this long, roughly cut blonde hair against my cheek, it was soft, crimson strands as gentle kisses were placed along my neck, his soft hands slowly caressing me. Ragged breathes were always sweet with him, my heart jumping every time he licked my ear, his teeth nibbling it ever so gently. His hand slipped down my body, into my pants, caressing me as he did the flowers; carefully, so as not to disrupt their beauty. Tightly I shut my eyes, wanting and wishing so much for the man fucking me to be him... to be my crimson haired teammate... I moan out his name, rolling it over my tongue, loving the way it feels on me lips. Only do I realize what I've done when the hands upon my skin stop abruptly, and a voice whispers hoarsely, asking me what I've just said.   
  
I choke out a simple nothing, but he doesn't believe me... he heard me loud and clear what I said. Wet hot tears roll down my skin as his hand balls into a fist upon my chest. Over and over again he asks me why. I can't answer, only blink away the tears. The fist upon my chest grabs my shirt, and pulls me forward. Green eyes meet mine and he growls. He yells at me how stupid I am for loving another man, that he's all that I ever need to be happy, and he's the best I'll ever find to fuck me properly. With his other hand he rips off my clothing and pushed me to the ground, all the while telling me to love him, and only him. Unzipping his pants, he turns me over and enters me, pain shooting up my body like a lightning bolt. In and out, he finds a rhythm, whispering in my ear that he loves me, and he doesn't want to hurt me. He tells me this is the only way I'll ever realize he's the only one for me. I can't help but cry, the tears falling slowly at first, but soon coming in waves, soaking my skin. Choking out a cry, he tells me to shut up, lest the others hear and realize what he's doing to me.   
  
I can't imagine my lovely instead of this beast, I can't ruin my fantasy of my crimson haired love. My insides pulse with pain as his bitter love pours into me. Releasing me, he holds me tightly, attempting to kiss away the damage he's done. Shakily, I pull away, gathering my clothes and attempting to dress. I notice blood on the tile, and I realize with a shock that it's mine. I choke back a cry and hurridly pull my shirt over my bruised torso, red imprints upon my skin showing the mark of his teeth and lips as they made their way over my body. I cringe and quickly make me way upstairs to my room. I can hear him crying, rocking back and forth, asking himself what he's done. I reach my door and stand there, my forehead pressed against the wood. Glancing over to the door of the room next to mine, I long to be in there... in his bed. I've already lost enough, why not, I ask myself. Stepping in front of his door, I open it and walk in, absorbing his scent. The room, I noticed, was plain... nothing to make it look like his own. On a plain dresser I noticed a picture of his sister. My heart went out to him, knowing what it was like to lose a loved one. I allowed my body to sprawl on his bed, bringing his pillow close to my body. It smelled like roses. Just like he always did. Freely I let the tears fall upon his pillow, sinking deeper into my despair.   
  
In my mind I imagined him walking in, surprised by my presence, but not bothered. Sitting next to me, he would runs his fingers through my hair and lay next to me, hugging me close. I knew he would never do such a thing. I knew his icy heart wouldn't allow such feeling, but I wished it did. Oh, how I wished he loved me as I loved him. I wished, and longed, and prayed every night, just for him to hold me once. Just to love me, to make all this pain go away. I blink and realize that I've fallen asleep. Through blurry eyes, I look around, and realize that someone's laying behind me, their arm around my waist, holding me tightly to them. Fear pulsing through my heart, I look at the man beside me, fearing it to be the one who raped me back for more. My eyes grow wide as my eyes are met with his. Those narrow amethyst eyes are staring right into mine, his pale face framed by wisps of crimson hair, his lips parted slightly. He's looking at me, expecting me to say something. In the back of my mind it slowly registers that both of us are under the covers... under his covers. I smile and whisper what I've been longing to say to him. I hold my breath in hanging suspense, waiting for him to snarl in disgust, or glare at me, or do something of the normal icy personality he owns. Instead, he whispers back to me, and my body relaxes. Finally I've heard the words from his lips, at last I've heard him say it. Once more he whispers it to me... once more from his lips escape the words I've been longing to hear.   
  
I love you too, Ken, his lips caress my skin as he whispers it and I smile, making a permanent place for myself within his arms.   
  
  
  



	2. Standing by my side

  
Disclaimer: Again, I own not Weiss, no matter how much I wish I did.   
  
Summary: Same story as last chapter, only this time from Aya's POV as he thinks of Ken. Hope you enjoy! Please please review!  
  
Dedications: Again, this is dedicated to my KenKen koi, because I was thinking of her when I wrote this.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
I cringe as the noises slip through the walls, ringing in my ears. I hate him every time I hear him gasp in pleasure, I hate him even more when I hear your moan. Every fucking night I have to deal with Balinese and his noise as he fucks you. Every night I have to lay, alone, and listen as the one I love is touched and pleasured by that man. What ever has he done to deserve your love? What hadn't I done to deserve you? I know I'm cold and icy, but... why can't you love me too? I'm better than that playboy, I'm who you deserved. I moan as I allow my hand to slip down into my pants. Night after night I imagine your tan, built body between my sheets, touching me sweetly, making me moan as Balinese does. Oh God how I wished it to be true. But oh, how it would never be. At last I hear the gentle thump as he falls to the floor, into your arms. I image myself in those strong arms of yours, those long fingers tracing hearts on my back as I take in the scent of your hair, the feel of your skin. I shut my eyes tightly and imagine you touching me, your hand instead of mine making me gasp and moan. I let out a long breath as I release myself and roll over, clutching a pillow to my chest. Inside my heart hurt. It hurt, because I know you will never be mine.   
  
Every day at the flower shop I make sure you have a shift with me, just so I can watch you. Today you're arranging a bouquet of gentians, nimble fingers placing each flower with care. You place rose buds at the edge of the arrangement and I smile. Rose, my favorite flower. I continue watering said favorite flowers, letting the spray dapple the rose blooms in gentle drops. I feel eyes upon my back and look at the high schoolers that plague us every day. I yell at them to leave unless they plan to buy something, but they don't listen. They never listen. As if on cue, he saunters in, wrapping his arms around your slim waist, pulling you away from the gentian/rose arrangement. A growl arises in my throat, but I fight it back; I know what he wants to do with you the privacy of the apartment behind and above the flower shop. I'm about to remind him of the work still needed to be done when Bombay comes scurrying in. Damn bubbling blond. I watch with heavy lidded eyes as he sneaks you out the door. I turn back to my flowers and fight the pain in my chest.   
  
Minutes later, I hear a soft cry. Looking around, I realize that no one else has heard it but me. I turn the hose off and slink away, quickly making my way to the kitchen where you lay. There he is, touching you, kissing you, raping you. Tears spring to my eyes as I see your lips, red and bloody, crying out without a sound. He's making you cry. Hatred fills me as I watch him touch you. My eyes go wide as he yells at you. He's yelling because you whispered another's name while he touched you. _My _name. Quickly words run through my head. Is it true? Did you really whisper my name? Were you imagining it was I who was touching you instead of him? My heart prayed for it to be true. I longed to hear you whisper my name in the night. I longed for your gentle touch upon my skin. Was it possible now? Was it truly what you wanted? I watch as he releases you, blood dripping down your legs to the tiled floor. You stand and hurriedly dress, wincing as your hand brushes a bruise that man caused. Without a sound, you walk up the stairs to your room, and I watch, in fascination, as your lover is left, rocking and crying, whispering to himself the question he and I both share. What has he done?   
  
Without a thought, I order him to clean up the mess he's left in the kitchen, and I trudge up the stairs, not knowing what I'll find. My hand brushes the wood of your door, opening it with a soft creak. Peering in, I find your bed empty and I panic. What if you've run away? What if you've left, never to return? In a blind worry, I waltz to my room, where I stop cold. You're there, hugging to you my pillow, tears creating a dark circle in the material. My panic subsides and I walk to you, running my fingers through your chestnut hair. It's soft, softer than my own. I bury my face in it, taking in your sweet smell. I sigh and hug you to my chest, your free-falling tears seeping through my shirt. Reluctantly I let you go, only to slip in behind you and pull the covers over our bodies. My arm slips around your waist, and I press you tightly against my chest and close my eyes. As I was about to drift into sleep, I feel your muscles tense against my body and I open my eyes, looking up at you. Your brown eyes are staring back at me, wide and afraid. I smile and hug you tighter, waiting for you to whisper to me the words I've longed to hear. Softly you choke out the words I've never heard, the words I want you to say to me, and only me. Not knowing if I've heard, you say it again, whispering it a little louder this time.   
  
I love you, Aya, your voice shakes as you say it, and I smile. I kiss the back of your neck and whisper to you the love I've felt for so long. I feel your body relax, and you snuggle closer to me as I whisper it again. And at last, I know this is where I'm meant to belong. 


	3. I am still lost

Disclaimer: I so don't own Weiss! Koyasu dear does... ^^   
  
Summary: Same setting and time, only this time, from Yohji's POV. I hope I've conveyed his personality all right, and I hope he had feelings... ^^ tell me if he's a bit too heartless or schizo, tay? Please read and review! Hope you enjoy!  
  
Dedications: This entire story is dedicated to my lovely koi. Go read her stuff at AkikoYuy. Without her I wouldn't be here writing this for all of you. ^----^ Know that I love you dear.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
His sweet heartbeat rings in my ears and I sigh in contentment. Here, in my lovers arms, is where I find happiness. All the blood I have shed, and the women I have fucked, and the lives I have ruined... it was all worth it for this moment of happiness. Finally, at last, he is mine. After waiting for so long, hiding, dreading the day he would find out and hate me, at last he loves me too. My fingers slowly mingle with his short, soft brown hair as he traces a heart on my shoulder blade. I bring him close to me and hugs him tightly. Softly in his ear I whisper the words to him of which I feel at every moment of every day... I whisper to him I love you.' He sighs and whispers it back, quietly. I smile and lay my head upon his shoulder, slowly falling asleep in his arms.   
Every day at the flower shop, he has a shift with our leader,' and I am stuck with the chibi. I always ask why he has to make the schedules, and he just shrugs and goes on watering those damn roses. Roses... too prickly if you ask me. Gentians are much more beautiful, especially combined with cattleyas. What a beautiful combination. I sigh and sit back on the couch in the mission room, contemplating. Siberian has been acting strange lately... I can tell from the way he acts at night with me. Somehow, lately it seems he doesn't put as much love into as usual. I sigh and push it to the back of my mind. It bothers me to think that he doesn't love me as much as I love him, and I just have to trust in him to love me. An idea springs to me and I jump up, sauntering to the flower shop where my love and Abyssinian were working. I slip in through the back door, wrapping my arm around his waist. He opens his mouth to say something, until chibi comes bouncing in. Silently, I thank him. As I pry him away from his Gentian/Rose arrangement, I notice Abyssinian looking back at us with a slightly hurt look on his face.   
He's been acting strangely too lately... I always catch him looking at Ken, and I hear him at night, touching himself; though it is hard to hear sometimes over the noise I make. However, that is to be expected of me, being a ladie's man' and all. I push him through the door from which I came and pulled him to the kitchen. There, I pushed him against the refrigerator and kiss him deeply. My hand slips up his shirt, and I toy with him, nibbling gently on his ear. Gasps sound from his lips, and I smile, my hand slipping lower. I kiss his neck, and my hand dives into his pants. I freeze as his lips open and let slip past a name. Aya. A growl arises from deep in my throat and I ask him what he just said. Shakily, he replies, claiming to have said nothing. I grab his shirt in my ever tightening fist and ask him why, over and over again. I knew it. How could I be so stupid, so blind?   
Ken has been different because he doesn't love me. He's been imagining our leader fucking him instead of me. How could he? How could he be so fucking selfish? Why can't he see I'm the only man that will love him like he deserves? Then it hits me. Abyssinian and Siberian. Together. My rage chokes me, and I feel hot tears on my cheeks, while my love's drop upon my fist. I pull him towards me and swallow. I tell him how stupid he is for loving that man, and how I'll be the only man he'll ever find to fuck him properly. I push him to the ground and rip his pants from his body, unzipping my pants while doing so. Roughly I enter him, not caring how much pain he's in, because the pain he has caused me is much, much worse. I fuck him hard, my ears deaf to his cries. I tell him to shut up. Blinded by tears, I pull away and slouch against the refrigerator. He stands up slowly, and I notice his legs covered in blood.   
Suddenly, it hits me what I've done. I raped him. I raped the only person I've ever truly loved. I made him cry, I made him bleed. I curl up, hugging my knees to my chest, and rock, not holding back the tears any longer. Numb to my mind, I realize that he has left, only to be followed by _him. _Something had been said to me. What, I do not know, but my mind, thinking slowly, tells me it has something to do with the blood on the tiled floor. In a trance, I clean his blood from the floor, not being able to think of what I have done. Once I have finished, I notice chibi standing by me, looking down at me with questioning in his eyes. He tells me he shut down the shop, and what I'm doing on the floor. Composing myself, I stand and shrug. I tell him he wouldn't understand. He doesn't know what it's like to be in love. He argues back, telling me he has been in love, and that he has someone who loves him very much. I can smell the lies seeping from him. I hear him at night also, his moans floating through the walls into my room. I know the sites he looks at, and I know his secret. Like every other man in this house, he has an attraction towards the more manly gender of the two...   
Suddenly I feel a warm feeling in my chest. Chibi. For the longest time, I had known that he had a crush on me... why not follow through with that to at least make someone happy with me? At least one person wants me. Forcing Siberian out of my mind, I slip my arm around his shoulder and whisper in his ear. He blushes and I smile. I tell him I know he's had feelings for me. He blushes more. I kiss his cheek and wink at him, making my way to my room, and leave him in disbelief, blushing away, looking like a tomato... or a cherry. I snicker to myself. I walk by Abyssinian's room and pause. Inside, I hear the soft whispers of the words I had spoke to my love only just the night before. This time, he's saying those words... only now, he's saying them to Aya. My heart falls deeper into my stomach and I can feel the hot tears forcing themselves upon my eyes and down my cheeks. My hands ball into fists and I walk hurriedly to my room, crying the rest of the night for my loved one, disbelieving how it could ever happen.   
  
  



	4. And can not find my way

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss. Koy-chan does. ^^' Please don't sue me.  
  
This chapter: Picks up from where the first chapter of Ken left off. From his POV. Hope you enjoy and if you have any opinions, please review with them! Thank you!  
  
Dedications: This, as always, is dedicated to my girlfriend Akiko. Go read her stuff, it's good. AkikoYuy. *Nods* For you, zutto, eien, I hand you my heart. *Bows* I'm so poetic. Heh.   
  
  
  
  
I awake and stretch, the night's events slowly dawning on me. I smile and lie back on the bed, hugging my pillow to me. It smells of his scent. My eyes crack open and I notice he's not there. I stand and make my way downstairs, yawning and ruffling my messed hair. I find someone in the kitchen, but it is not him. It is Bombay, who is cooking happily. I ask him about the cause of his mood, and he just flits me a smile and hums a tune. I sigh and ask him the whereabouts of my love. His happy facade falters for an instant, and he sits down beside me at the kitchen table. His hand slips forward and he rests his chin lightly on the back of it. He says something about Balinese walking out in the middle of the night and my love following. I cringe. Those memories also flood into my mind and my body begins to shake. I excuse myself quickly, making my way to the warm shower. I strip of my clothing and step into the hot, pounding liquid that tore at my body. I relaxed and leaned against the newly cleaned white tile of the shower, thinking. My eyelids slip over aqua colored eyes as my mouth parts, slowly letting out a cry. For the first time since he raped me, I cry.   
I slide to the floor and wrap my arms about myself, hugging my body tight. I remember his kind tone as he whispered to me his love to me, and how I felt so loved as he held me. Why wasn't he there now? Where had he gone? Had he really gone after Balinese? He should hate him. He should hate him for what he did... shouldn't he? My mind can't take it anymore and I give up trying to think. In place, I sit there and let the water stream over my body, my eyes closed. Soon I hear a sharp knock on the door and my body jumps. The water has turned icy cold and the window shows that it is much later than should have been. Night late. I quickly turn off the water and wrap a towel around my waist with crimpled fingers. I open the door and there he stands, tall and stern. His dress is that of his assassin wear, and his hands are bloodied. I blink and open my mouth the question, but he only pushes me aside and slams the door in my face.   
I feel tears at my eyes and quickly stride to my room. There I dress in soft warm pajamas and lie in bed, waiting for the sound of his footsteps. Within minutes, I hear him stride by. I quickly stand and follow him. He's pulling a book from his night stand as I reach his door, and he looks up at me, his normal cold façade staring me in the eye. I feel my heart sink, but continue any ways. I ask him where he's been, and he only shrugs, saying it was a simple mission he was sent on. I nod and ask if he knows where Balinese has gone. His face darkens and he grunts something about getting a nice fuck tonight. I blush and step towards him. I ask him about last night. The room falls silent and I can hear my rapid heartbeat. After what seems like hours, I speak again. I ask him if he really meant what he said to me. He leans his head against the wall and sighs. He tells me it was a moment of vulnerability that he couldn't avoid. He tells me that he can't love or be loved, because he has killed and shed blood. The same lines he fed Sakura. I cringe and turn away, my heart shattering. Quietly I whisper my reply. I have killed too, I tell him. I try to make him realize that we've both sinned, that we both have faults.  
I yell at him that he CAN love. He CAN be loved. And he is. Because I love him. And I tell him this. I tell him I love him and can't ever let him go. I tell him about all those times Balinese was fucking me and I imagined it was his body making love to me instead. I see him flinch and I step back. I tell him I'll love him no matter what, and that he can't help that. At this he turns to me, glaring. In his low, cold voice he tells me to get out. Simply that. I stop breathing and everything around me goes still. In an instant it's broken as he turns back to his book. Hurt, I turn away and make my way to my room. There I slip under the covers and slip into sleep, too hurt to cry. 


	5. This darkness threatens to break me

Disclaimer: I own not the Weiss boys. Koyasu has those.  
  
Summary: Aya's second POV chapter. It's getting angsty, I know... but keep reading!  
  
Dedication: As always, to my lovely KenKen. Without you koi, I would never have survived. I love you forever dear.   
  
  
  
  
  
The sunlight shines through a crack in my blinks, waking me up. My eyes open and I am met with the soft sight of Siberian sleeping next to me, his hair slightly ruffled, his cheeks pink with sleep. Instantly my mind is startled at the sight, quite different from my normal waking, drenched in sweat, the screaming inside my head leaving it dull and pounding. I quietly slip around him, allowing his fingers to grasp my forgotten pillow lightly. I stretch and walk down the hallway to the kitchen. There Manx is waiting for me; I'm the only one awake. She takes me down to the mission room, and I watch as she places the tape into the VCR, and I watch a fuzzed-out man come onto the screen. My mission: I was to track down a man who led a ring of undercover agents that infiltrated the local police stations, slowly killing them off and diminishing the police force. I nodded and walked away, going to the closet on the other side of the room to grab my assassin uniform. Throwing it on quickly, I head out the door, grabbing my katana on the way.   
The morning wind bites cold against my cheek as I walk through pre-sunrised darkness. Swiftly I walk, intent on reaching my victim as soon as possible, so that I might return home soon. I pass by a tall silver building and stop; his office lies on the tenth floor. Finding a back door, I slip in, walking up the stairs as quietly as my boots allow. I find his office fast and unlock it using a bobby pin on my katana. I find him in a chair, turned away from me, talking on the phone with one of his servants. He hangs up and come up behind him, unsheathe my katana, and push it tightly to his neck. His strangled cries of protest make me pause; a mistake I should never make. He talks to me. Insults. Telling me I don't deserve life and all it's wonders. A killer like myself, he says, never deserves to love. He tells me I'm a sick bastard and I deserve to die. He tells me that whoever loves me is a fool. Instantly in my mind I see Siberian, his smiling face mocking me. I scream at him while digging the blade of my katana into his throat. I yell at him that he is not a fool. The man I love is not a fool at all.   
Before the sharp blade severs his throat, he chokes out one more insult. He tells me I'll only hurt him in the end, and that my cold heart will shatter his in an instant. My face and hands are splattered with blood and I fall to the ground, sitting there. My blade falls next to me and I close my eyes. Distant voices ring in the back of my head. A child. A girl. Her laughter streams through my head as the scent of flowers reminds me of home. I whisper her name again and again. I'm sorry, I whisper, I'm so sorry. Although I became what I am because of her, I cannot help but feel this immense guilt upon my soul. I kill to pay her hospital bills. I kill for her sake. And yet... when she awakes... she won't even know me. I won't let her know me. I won't let her know the Ran she once knew has become a ruthless killer named after her. I just can't do it.   
I open my eyes and realize that the sun has begun to set. I hurry to my feet and sneak out of the building. Thankfully no one came into the room of the murder I had committed. I slink through the shadows on the way back to the Koneko. The shudder is down over the front, so I know Bombay has closed to shop for the day. I find the back door and walk up the stairs, hearing the shower running. Neither Bombay nor Balinese are home; all the better. I drop my Katana off on my bed to polish later, and make my way to the shower. Three sharp knocks later, Siberian is standing there, a towel around his waist. Looking into his eyes I hear that damn voice again. The voice in the back of my head telling me I'm not allowed to love anyone. Before he can say a word, I push past him and close the door sharply. Stripping of the leather that binds my skin, I step into the shower and turn on the water, cursing loudly as the cold water hits me hard. I realize that Siberian must have been taking a shower for a long time and had taken all he hot water. I cringe and stand in the cold, my skin burning, then slowly turning numb and cold. Just like my heart.   
Stepping out of the cold shower I throw on a towel and stride to my room. There I dress quickly in boxers and a shirt and sit on my bed, pulling my favorite book from my bedside table in an attempt to forget everything. I look up when I feel a presence at my doorway. There stands Siberian in flannel pajamas, almost shaking in his fright and anticipation. I put on my iciest glare, determined not to let my heart warm up to him. It can't. I can't allow it. I wouldn't be able to stand myself if I watched another person I love get hurt because of me. Instantly I think of my sister. Cold, lifeless, and in a coma. And now I kill to keep her alive. Dead, but alive. And now it is the reason I can't do what I really want to do. I wish I could stand up and take him in my arms and hold onto him tight. To feel the warmth of his skin, to feel his breath, his heartbeat against me. My cold body longed for his warmth. My iced over heart wanted his love so badly. And yet... I could not have it. I could not hurt him. I would just end up breaking his heart. A mission would go wrong and I would be dead. Or he would die. And that would hurt too much. I couldn't stand another person I love leaving this world without me.   
Bringing myself back to the waking world, I watch Siberian's mouth as his lips move. He's asking me questions about where I've been and where Balinese is. I reply as coldly and brashly as I can, pushing him away from me with my voice. Finally, he asks me what I've been dreading. He asks me about the night before. I stay silent, trying to find a lie in my head. After moments of silence, he asks me if I really meant it when I told him I loved him. My heart screams at me yes. Yes, yes, YES! You LOVE him! TELL HIM IT'S TRUE! My mind kills that thought just like I killed that man mere hours ago. I sigh, my head falling back against the head rest. I can't take this pain anymore, I think inside my head. What's it all for any ways? I look at the boy standing in the doorway and am answered instantly. Him. Aya-chan. The people I love.   
I spout off some shit about vulnerability that I couldn't get away from. I tell him what that man said to me. I can't love or be loved, because I have killed. I barely remember telling those words to someone before, someone not as important to me; Sakura. He argues with me, telling me he has killed also. Telling me we both have our wrongs and that we've both sinned. Silently I think to myself. You can be forgiven, my mind says to him. God can forgive you. Now he's yelling at me. He's yelling that I can love, and that I am allowed to be loved. And that I am loved, because he loves me. He loves me and can't ever let me go. Now he's going on about how he imagined me instead of that damn playboy when he was being fucked.   
Oh, God, how I wanted to tell him I though of him too. When I touched myself, listening to them fuck, I would image it was him touching me. My body screamed at me to let him touch you, to let him inside of you. I wince with the pain it causes me inside to hear about him and Balinese fucking each other at night. It brings back the images I wished I could forget. Again he tells me he loves me and that he can't help it. My eyes, acting upon themselves, glare at him, my lips moving to the words I speak often. I tell him to get out. I turn back to my book and am only highly aware that he turns around and leaves. I sigh heavily and pound my head against the headboard. What have I done now? I've screwed it all up. Again. 


	6. This hatred threatens to take me

Disclaimer: I own not of Weiss. Nothing but dear Koyappi's coat. v___v   
  
Summary: I KNOW I KNOW! This chapter sucked big time. It took me a while too. I just had a block, okay? And I was re-working my book. ^^' heh. Yea. I think I know where this fic is going. I used to know. o_0 Anyways... please, PLEASE tell me what you don't like about this. I know, it's really bad. v___v I didn't know what to do.   
  
Dedication: As always, my koi. Truly, I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for her. Like my work? Go thank her on her account: AkikoYuy. She really is my lifesaver. ^-^   
  
  
  
  
  
  
I awaken upon the floor of my room to the late-night howls in a dog, lost in the allies. I blink wearily and sit, looking around my room in a newfound light, forgetting myself. Silent breathes whisper through the thin walls, my eyes closing gently to sway with them. I don't believe anything has happened. Did I ever love Siberian? Was I with him even? I think to myself. It's all so fuzzy now. Blond waves bounce against my flushed cheeks, my head shaking back and forth. Woken and alert, I stand and grab a pair of pants; tight and black. Throwing my boxers upon the floor, I quickly change into my clubbing gear and sit on my bed, my head in my hands. The world was in a circle, and I was in a square.   
  
Throwing back my head, I laughed. I laughed at the world and stood, ready to go to my favourite club and smash myself into an oblivion with alchohol and cigarettes. Before I can tell myself to move, I arive at Leçad, my favorite gay bar and dance club. Yes, I will admit I prefer men over women. I only go to straight clubs when I'm bored and int he mood for a good fuck, but gay clubs are a must when I need to clear my head, and am just in the mood for someone to fuck me stupid.   
  
I saunter into the club with confidence; people love me here. Instantly, a very handsome man walks up to me and grabs my arm to dance. He dances close and low, his long black hair tickling my cheeks and torso provacatively. I grind my pelvis into him, allowing him to feel my growing need for him. I can almost hear it as his lips form to create a smirk, lusting for me with every tooth. In a very open club, anything goes here. Instantly it all vanishes as my chest is shoved against a smooth, painted wall, decorated with the blazing strobed lights. My partner screws me long and hard, moving slow and strong within me. I cry out a name. A name which my lips have been parched of too long to bear. I scream out my lovely's name, and groan in pleasure as my partner pushes harder. I scream again, and all is lost within me.   
  
Again upon a dark floor my eyes gaze within first wake. Left in a room, I look around, nothing familiar but the grinning face in front of me. In my partner's room, and in his bed I lay, he kisses me gently. I smile at the tender touch, once again reliving my happiness with Siberian. My past. Of a woman I once loved. Yes, I loved Asuka. But I killed her. Such the life of an assassin. Happiness is not for killers, is it? So God made me this way. It was destined that Ken not love me. It was my fate to be here, wasn't it? I always knew I wasn't destined to love. I fall into the dark as my partner rapes me again... and again... and again.  
  
  
Although... it can't be rape if one isn't consious to feel it, right? So I become a doll. A doll who is programmed. A doll who cannot feel, cannot love, cannot hate. Then what is this growing anger in my chest at my leader? What is this growing pit in my stomach for my ex-lover? I smile slightly, and chuckle a bit. Even if I am a doll, I'm disfunctional. That's why everyone always gives me back.  
  
Until morning, I am lost within myself. A mindless yearning for need, and a incesant man inside me.   
  
  
  



	7. Don't let the night fall all around me

  
Author's note: I hope you like this so far! I found my plot again, so I'll be updating more. Finals are coming up soon, but don't worry. ^-^ Enjoy, and please review nicely! Flames are fed to evil Takatoris.  
  
Disclaimer: I own not of Weiss. ^-^ Koy-chan does.   
  
Dedication: Yet again, to my lovely. Akiko Yuy. Go read her heartbreaking RanKen fic. ^-^   
  
  
Tightness welling inside my chest when I awaken. I don't want to get up. Why face the world when I have nothing to face? A moan emitting from my lips, I hear a voice outside my room. It's the high pitched voice of our youngest member, Bombay. He's mumbling something about Balinese not coming home the night before, and being worried about our teammate. Aah... poor, foolish little Bombay. He's so clueless. So naive. So young. I bet he's never had a man shove into him and screw him. I bet he's never done that to a woman either. How envious of him I must seem. I wonder if he has someone that loves him. I bet it's that other member of Schwarz. I've heard him mumbling on the phone late at night, and I found a picture of the boy when I was cleaning his room looking for my soccer socks.   
Maybe he has had a man shove into him. Or would it be the other way around? I don't know. Not quite sure if I care. I sigh and rub my face into my pillow. It smells like roses. My fists clench and I throw the fluffy thing across my room, knocking over my picture of the four of us in the flower shop, the glass shattering on the floor. Moments later I hear a knock at my door. Bombay's voice is low and worried, asking me if I was alright, and questioning as to what happened. I yell at him I'm fine and to go away. I hear him squeak, and the slight patter of his feet dwindles away. I gasp for air as my lungs restrict slightly, yawning for more breath. I roll over and look at the clock, where it blinks at me numbers that can't register in my head. Blinking sleepily, I sit at the edge of my bed and look up, toward my ceiling, and stand. Sighing heavily once more, I walk toward the door and lay my palm on the cold brass door handle. I felt it turn under my fingers and squeaked slightly, jumping back.   
The door opens slightly and I see a redheaded, Amythest-eyed man look into my room, straight at me. My breath quickens slightly and my throat constricts at the sight of the man I had shared a bed with not only a night before. I attempt to choke out words. Anything, anything to say to you and I'd be happy. However, your sharp voice interrupts me, telling me to come down to breakfast. You say we need to talk, all of us. My face grows numb, and I nod solemnly, my hair falling in front of my half-closed eyes in clumps. I see his eyes narrow and glance at my hair. I can almost see something flash in his eyes, but I push it aside. He wouldn't want me anymore, would he? He couldn't want me anymore. He shouldn't.   
He tells me to hurry up, then shuts the door tightly and swift. I stare at the wood in confused confinement. Turning to my dresser, I pick out jeans and my soccer jersey. Quickly I strip of my pajamas and dress. I open the door and step slowly down the narrow stairs, the padded carpet soft upon my feet. I hear Bombay and Abyssinian talking; small talk. Bombay then mentions Balinese, and I tense. He replies quietly enough to be out of my range. I step into the kitchen with the sight of Bombay serving him hot tea and miso soup. I smile as he picks up a silver spoon and dips it into his soup, lifting it to his lip sand blowing on it. My feet take me to a chair across from him, and I slide into it, my fingers grasping the wood of my seat in between my legs as I lean forward. My eyes are bent to the floor, but I glance up and see Bombay staring at me, his eyes twisted in concern. Lowering his small frame into the chair to my left, the three of us sat in silence until it was broken by Abyssinian's voice.   
Persia contacted me this morning. There has been an unusual calm in the crime rate recently, so all of us have been given time off temporarily until he contacts us again. Is this clear? Both Bombay and I nod. Standing, he grabs his apron and walks toward the flower shop, looking back over his shoulder at Bombay.   
Bombay and I have the first shift of the day, while Siberian and Balinese have second. If Balinese refrains from returning, Bombay and Siberian will share second shift. He closed the door behind him and I looked at Bombay, my eyes pleading. His eyebrow listed slightly, and asked me what was up with Abyssinian, and why he scheduled the shifts differently this time. I turned my head down, and shrugged my shoulders helplessly. Why did he change it? Is he sick of my face? Of my voice? What's wrong with me? Tears are forcing their way around my eyes, and I shut them tightly. Standing swiftly, I stalk to my room again and close the door tightly. My hands yank open the top drawer of my dresser harshly, and my fingers plunge into the mass of underclothes and soccer uniforms. At the bottom there is a picture. Lifting it like a child, I flop on my bed and gaze at the ink on the paper. I'm in my apron in the flower shop, holding a pot of Roses. Next to me he stands with a bouquet of Gentians, and I'm smiling. His arm is around my shoulder, and he's glaring at the camera slightly, but a small smile is cocked upon his lips. I remember Sakura taking the picture, and I had to have a copy of it. I loved it. But now, my fingers twitch idly, and I rip the top slightly, starting a tear in between him and I.   
Blinking heavily, I stop and my fingers fall away, the picture dropping to the floor. I can't take it anymore. Why is he avoiding me? Why? It's only been two days since he and I were on the verge of something great. Something wonderful. Why did he have to go and blow it? Anger wells in my chest, reminding me of last night. Grabbing my soccer shorts, I change quickly and head down the stairs. On my way out I grab my soccer ball and cleats, jamming them on my feet at the door. Without a word to anyone else, I run as fast as I can toward the park. Once my feet reach the soft, green grass, I drop the ball and start kicking it toward the field. I'm mostly alone, save for two guys kicking a soccer ball around on the other side of the field. Bouncing the ball on my head, I grin wildly and let it fall to my knee, where I bounce it high, then kick it hard into the goal. My heart pumps while sweat rolls down my back as I run up and down the the paint-free field. My heart soars and I smile. Genuinely smile.   
I've always loved soccer. It's my favorite past-time. I love the feel of it when the heavy ball connects with my foot, and the cool fresh air against my hot skin. Before I know it, someone is next to me, trying to steal the ball away. I grin and steal it back. Soon, a game is started up and I'm appointed main forward. Hours pass, and my team cheers as the final goal is swooshed into a white net by my foot. My lips slide into a smile as my makeshift teammates slap me on the back and shake my hand, telling me to come back soon and they can play another game. They leave one by one, and at this point I finally realize how late it is. I curse to myself and find my soccer ball, scooping it in my arms and jogging away from the net. Around me, the sun sets and birds stop chirping. Passing a bench, my eyes turn swiftly to the left and I gasp, my feet slowing their pace while my arm grows weak and the ball drops from my fingertips. He's sitting there on a bench, his long white coat spread next to him. Sunglasses are shading his bright amethyst eyes as he stared forward. I can sense his gaze turn toward me, and my body tenses. Words attempt to escape, but I am left hovering without a sound.   
Bombay was nice enough to take over your shift today, Siberian. Balinese came back and helped. You owe the small one a favor. His voice is still icy and cold, like the weather was beginning to become. He tells me he's come to get me, and that I should come back home. I can feel my throat constricting as my jaw begins to clench, tears brimming in my eyes. I break and shout at him. I tell him how dare he come here like my baby-sitter, and how dare he tell me to come home when Balinese stays out however late he wants, fucking who knows what. His body rises slowly, and he turns toward me, his long fingers taking his sunglasses off so that his eyes are shining at me, boring into my soul.   
The tears come in floods now, and I can't help but keep yelling. I yell at him because of his coldness towards me. I ask him why he's been so mean, and how come he changed the schedule, and why the hell he's remained to far from me. Without realizing my actions, my legs are running toward him and my arms wrap around his torso, my tears soaking his coat. Why?! I yell. I yell and yell and yell. I scream at him. Why is he doing this to me? Why, why, why? I hug him close to my body and tell him I don't want to be like Sakura. I tell him I don't want to be like everyone else he's left behind. I tell him he's pushing everyone away again, and that I won't and can't take it. I feel his large hands upon my shoulder, pushing me away from his body. My tear streaked cheeks burn with the uprising wind, and my vision is blurred. I don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't cried this much in so little time since... Since I don't remember. How can he make me feel like this, and make so many tears be shed? I don't like this. I don't like it at all. I tell him so. I tell him that I love him and that I hate him at the same time for making me feel like such a shit. Like I'm not wanting. I'm never wanted. I tell him that Balinese wants me, but that doesn't count.   
I can't go back to Balinese. I want him. Him, and only him. My fists beat on his chest lightly and I cry at him to let me near. His hands squeeze my shoulder, and then fall to his side. His shoulder begin to turn away from me, but I grab his hand. I won't let him leave. I can't let him leave me. I pull his body into mine, and, on my toes, I push my lips forcefully on his. Taking a step back, I can see that his eyes are wide. He's staring into space over my shoulder. Blinking hard, he looks into my eyes, and his lips part in confusion.  
I can't. I'm sorry Ken, but... I can't. I lower my head and scream. I scream as his hand falls from mine, and he walks away. I scream at myself, at him, at everything. I scream at the world, and Balinese, and anything and everything that will listen. I scream until my throat is hoarse and my tongue is numb. I can't take this anymore. I scream as the night falls, drapping me in darkness. 


End file.
